pale in comparison
by encheiridion
Summary: a collection of vignettes (updated sporadically), aomine/momoi. 03; wind —because he wants more, so much more than he should.
1. 01— gentleman

**disclaimer:** kuroko no basuke © tadatoshi fujimaki  
**title: **gentleman**  
****summary:** —_because daiki is no gentleman._  
**note:** ah...where did all the gentleman go?_ /sobbing._

* * *

_**if daiki was...a gentleman.**_

Satsuki could imagine it. She could _definitely_ imagine it.

He would address her as, _Momoi-sama_, and kiss her hand in greeting.

He would also kiss her feet. He would tell her everyday just how beautiful she was while he held her in a soft and gentle embrace because that's what gentlemen did. He'd bring her flowers and chocolates and write poems about her. He'd shower her with gifts she didn't need. He'd open doors for her without her asking (and he definitely _wouldn't_ expect her to open doors for him!). He'd feed her too. He also wouldn't ditch her, leave her on her own, at random intervals.

And, when she said goodbye, he would beg her to stay and maybe she would and maybe she wouldn't. It all depended on whether or not her knew how to beg her properly. She wasn't entirely opposed to the idea of him on his knees.

Also, when he kissed her, he'd ask for permission. He'd say something like, "_Momoi-sama_, may you please gift me with a kiss?"

And she would answer, "Maybe..." Because maybe she would kiss him and maybe she wouldn't. It all depended on whether or not she felt like having him kiss her. She would though, _probably_, _most likely_, let Daiki kiss her because being kissed by him wasn't so bad. Nope, it definitely wasn't bad. She kind of liked it, actually, but she would never tell him that. A gentleman didn't need to have his ego inflated (more than it already was).

And, after their kiss, he would tell her how much he loved her.

And, maybe, she would tell him how much she loved him.

And, together, they would be happy forever..._or something._

Satsuki sighed. She could definitely imagine him as a gentleman. Her imagination, of Daiki as a gentleman, was as far as it went though. Because Daiki was no gentleman.

"Oi, Satsuki, my feet hurt. Give me a massage."

Yup. Daiki was most definitely _not_ a gentleman.

* * *

**(a/n):** most of these are already on my tumblr but i decided to edit and post the ones that please me the most (some of the content might differ from how i originally wrote it). collection will probably be updated sporadically.


	2. 02— fragile heart

**disclaimer**: kuroko no basuke © tadatoshi fujimaki  
**title:** anger in a fragile heart  
**summary**: —he can feel the anger spreading throughout him and it feels cold.  
**note:** this is more aomine-centric than anything else.

* * *

_Do you think that anger is a sincere emotion or just the timid emotion of a fragile heart trying to beat away its pain?_ –Andrea Gibson

;

It's not hard to see that Daiki is an angry individual. And it's a cold anger that seizes him, takes over him completely, and turns him into something frightening and different to the Daiki that Satsuki used to know.

He scares her.

She's never been afraid of Daiki before but now, he scares her—frightens her beyond belief. He is cold and cruel and she doesn't know what she's supposed to do or how she's supposed to act. She knows she can't pretend and act like she always has. He'd sense it.

She doesn't know what to do because this isn't _Dai-chan_, who smiles kindly. This is_Aomine-kun_, who smirks cruelly. He's like a wolf, swallowing up all traces of _Dai-chan_.

He isn't Dai-chan.

And it makes her want to cry.

.

In pain. He is in pain.

He doesn't have anyone. Satsuki isn't even there for him anymore. She keeps her distance, calls him _Aomine-kun_ and gives him bullshit excuses. It pisses him off. But it also makes him a little sad.

He's alone and he doesn't understand it.

He's never felt this alone. Satsuki has always been there when no one else has but she's afraid of him. He can tell that she's afraid of him. He can tell by the way she is cautious when speaking to him. Her smiles wavers when she thinks that he isn't looking at her.

He doesn't know what to do. He doesn't know how he's supposed to act to make her less frightened. He wants to be different but he can't He can't hide behind fake smiles. He's hurt, his heart can't put up the effort of acting like he isn't because he _is_. And maybe he could show his hurt differently besides cold words and cruel expressions but he doesn't want to. It's too much work pretending like everything is all right when it isn't

He's just so fucking tired.

He's tired of smiling and letting people in only to get hurt. He's tired of people stepping all over his feeling, crushing his heart, and him not doing anything about it. It's gone far enough. They've gone far enough. And he's exhausted.

All he can feel is anger and it's draining him.

Any and all emotions are draining. They tire him out. Happiness…he doesn't want to remember the last time he'd been happy. Basketball used to make him feel something. It's fucking tiring as well, to play something that he used to love with half-hearted feelings. But he does it anyway, because maybe one day he'll be able to feel something besides anger.

"Aomine-kun."

He frowns darkly. He doesn't want to talk to her right now, he can't deal with her skittishness. But if he ignores her she won't go away.

"What?" he growls out.

"…Are you going to practice?"

He scoffs, "Practice? What the hell would I do at practice? No, I'm not going."

"Let's go home then?"

He can feel the anger spreading and it feels cold. He feels cold. She can barely stand the sight of him but she still wants to go home with him, still stays by his side. He hears her sigh and begin to walk off when he doesn't answer. His hand shoots out t grab hers. He can feel her tense. Her other hand grabbing onto his, digging her nails in. She tries so hard to not let him see how scared she is.

And it feels like she's stepping on his heart and crushing it beneath her foot. He turns before she can see the hurt look on his face.

He lets go of her hand.

"Go on without me," he says, clenching his jaw.

He hears the door to the roof close behind her.

Whatever. He doesn't need her. He doesn't need anyone.

Daiki will be fine on his own.

;

He can feel the sound of his heart in his ears, loud and pulsing and beating.

He doesn't like how it sounds.

.

It hurts.


	3. 03— wind

**disclaimer:** kuroko no basuke © tadatoshi fujimaki  
**title:** like the wind  
**summary:** —because he wants _more, more_, so _much more_ than he should.  
**note:** wrote this for a 30 writing challenge on tumblr. sorry for any mistakes! (oh and this is probably really cliché like everything i write /cries)

* * *

He gets frustrated sometimes. Even though, he knows he shouldn't.

He knows he shouldn't get frustrated over the fact that her kisses are light, flighty, feathery. A touch of her lips that he barely feels on his. Though, she mostly leaves them on his cheek and forehead and (very rarely) on the side of his throat.

They are _teasing, teasing, teasing_ little kisses. He thinks she does it in purpose. She _probably_ does them on purpose.

And then, by accident, he tells her that her _kisses are like a breeze of wind_ (he can barely feel them; doesn't even know if they're there). He regrets the words as soon as they are out of his mouth. They're uncharacteristic. He doesn't do poetic, doesn't do romantic. He hadn't been trying to be any of that. The words had just slipped off his tongue in bitter anger.

Because he wants _more, more_, so much more than he should. He wants something tangible. He wants to know that she's there—that she's real. That they are, _together_, real.

That she's not lying when she says _I love you_. Not Tetsu, not anymore. But him.

He turns away from her only to turn back when she places a hand on her cheek. He grabs her wrist. Squeezes it harshly. He can feel her pulse, steady. He has no effect on her. He's never had an effect on her. But, Tetsu always made her cheeks flush, made her heart beat so loud even Daiki could hear it. It makes sense. Daiki has always been, will always just be, _Dai-chan the childhood friend._ It doesn't make a difference that they're together. He brings her wrist to his mouth, presses his lips to it and there is barely a flutter.

He smirks, let out a single bark of laughter. The sound is bitter and even a little cruel. Sardonic.

His eyes are hard, indifferent, when they look at her. He sees her eyes widen just a fraction. He doesn't care. Not anymore. He let's go of her wrist.

"Dai–"

"–This isn't working." Daiki doesn't think she should look so surprised.

"W-what are you talking about?"

"Let's…_break up_. We should just go back to how were." The words are harder to say than he imagined.

Friends. They were just friends now. No more of her feathery little kisses on his lips. They probably weren't even there to begin with. He curls his hands into fists and puts them in his sweater pockets. He might not have much of an effect on her but she has an effect on his. His hands are shaky. He should hurry home. He turns away and starts walking. He can hear the pitter-patter of her small feet following after him.

She races ahead of him. She is in front of him, smiling. He stops. She wraps her arms around him.

"Dai-chan! You play such mean jokes!"

He arms are tight around his waist. He grabs her shoulders in a piercing grip. He doesn't know if he wants to hold her or push her away. He should push her away. They're done. They hadn't worked.

"Let go."

Her arms tighten around him when he tries prying her away. He scowls. Why didn't she understand? They hadn't worked.

"I'm not _fucking_ around, Satsuki. _Let_. _Go_."

"I don't want to."

Fuck this. He pushes her forcefully off him. He pushes her against the chain-link fence. It shakes violently, rattles.

"I'm not Tetsu! I'll never be Tetsu!"

There, he said it. He wasn't what she was looking for and he would never be what she was looking for. The shade of his hair wasn't a light blue. His skin wasn't pale or delicate enough. His height wasn't right. He wasn't Tetsu. She could cry all she wanted, he didn't care. He wants to push her off again when she grabs at his arm, to stop him from leaving, but he doesn't have the heart too.

"I know! I know! I know that! I know you aren't Tetsu but what does that have to do with anything!?"

"…You wish I was Tetsu."

"N-no…" Her voice trembles and her grip on his arm tightens and then she says something he doesn't expect.

He feels breathless, "_What?_"

"Kiss me. I want you to kiss me, please?"

No. He should say no. A kiss wouldn't fix a thing. So it didn't matter. This kiss would not matter. He leans in but hesitates. What was he doing? He grimaces and makes to pull away but her arms hook around his neck and pull him down the rest of the way. Her lips press into his sloppily. He doesn't expect different since neither of them have kissed very much. Her lips are soft, it's the first thing he notices. Really, really soft. And this kiss of hers is not like the ones she usually gives. She presses her lips hard against his. His hand are holding onto the fence behind her. He follows her lead when she moves her lips over his. He feels her tongue touch his bottom lip tentatively. He pulls away.

"I'm not Tetsu," he says, he places his forehead against hers, their lips close together.

Her breath is warm against his face, "You're Daiki. I want Daiki, I…_love_ Daiki."

She presses her lips against his again. And then, he knows they're real. She's real. She isn't just a breeze.

And he can feel her heart beating just as fast and just as loud as his.


End file.
